The Eagle's Legacy
by FeatheredMask
Summary: Ezio intends to wage war on the Templars invading Masyaf, himself the only participant of the coup d'etat. However, war is already raging behind the scenes.


Disclaimer: Mike and I own Alshain. Nothing more.

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><p>Alshain scanned the white void, the sides of jutting rocks helping the eye fill in a hidden winter landscape. The blizzard occasionally gave way to glimpse the sky through windows so small one had to be searching to even notice them. Alshain's eyes narrowed as he concentrated on his search.<p>

He remained still otherwise. His legs ached in a position set to pounce and his nose burned from inhaling the frigid air. The white cloak gave him camouflage, but he wasn't about to throw caution to the howling wind.

Similar thoughts echoed in many other heads around the clearing, every desire to stretch and chatter squashed.

A muffled crunch. The meager sound had Alshain's eyes flying wide and searching through the pinprick windows of the blizzard. Another crunch through the howls. Alshain spotted a gleeful pair of eyes, but dismissed them as unimportant. Louder crunches of snow turned the eyes determined, yet they still held an ounce of glee.

Alshain glimpsed dark fur; his lax grip on his sword tensed. As the wind revealed a hooded face, Alshain tugged on the string in his other hand, sending a ripple of surprise among the hidden. Soldiers leaped from hiding to meld into a flurry of motion. Blades whipped through the blizzard. Adrenaline pumped and melted iced veins.

Their target's face was a blank slate. By no means had he known of the ambush. He moved to action despite his surprise, using tricks to cut down men with their own blades.

Soldier after soldier came forth, moving to replace men the second they fell. Alshain grinned at the absurd measures they had to take. An army to take down one lone man.

The target's chest heaved for air when he brought out his signature weapons, a type of small blade that corresponded with wrist movements. Alshain smirked, and sent a silent signal for his men to execute a different attack strategy.

The man's movements slowed. Alshain put forth a burst of speed. He jumped off a fallen man to gain altitude, sword coming down. The target blocked an attack with a sword as he noticed the approaching shadow. His free hand came up in a block, one of his special blades to take the force of the blow. The resonating sound of the hollow dagger breaking off sounded like the bell tolling at midnight to Alshain.

The force of the blow knocked the target to his knees. The soldiers took this chance to surround him. Spears grazed his armor.

Alshain seized the man's arm, a soldier taking the other. They binded his hands with rope and hauled him to his feet. They marched through the blizzard to an ancient fortress.

A majority of the army dispersed and three of Alshain's commanders joined the entourage to lead them up a tower. The number of stairs would have any panting, but the soldiers stood tall and swelling with pride.

The soldiers spread thin, moving to stand at attention in an orderly fashion. Every one of them wore smirks, their arrogance shining through. One low-rank in the corner bounced on the balls of his feet and twitched his hand. Alshain caught his eye, and the fidgeting ceased. He slid his gaze back to the procession, where the famed man was led to the end of a ledge.

A second figure, one dressed in the mercenary clothes of old, walked to the end of the ledge beside. Once, an army had watched as this man jumped the many stories of the tower on orders from his master. It became a whispered tale that the master commanded so much respect his followers would jump to their deaths if he asked them. After a time, a twist was added, and it turned into a legend told both with reverence and resentment many years later.

Alshain allowed his eyes to follow this one, used to his presence by now. Whereas the spirit leaped off to safely land in a bale of hay, Alshain's superior slipped a noose over the captured man's head. The target made no indication he noticed, staring at the other ledge. Coincidence, Alshain passed it off as. Still, he played with the thought, a genuine smile replacing the prideful smirk.

An eagle flew past the doomed man, circling the tower. A few soldiers gave it a cursory glance.

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><p>How's that for a cliffhanger?<p>

*check profile for notice on other stories


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